


You'll Earn The Name

by blackpercy



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/M, annabeth is an inventor, bootleggin and speakeasy type stuff, but he's a constant influence on our charcaters, i dont even like percabeth that much tbh, i just got the idea and couldnt pass up the oppurtunity, no more spoilers tho, percy is a professional dork, percy jackson is a latino, rachel is a disgraced billionaires daughter turned activist, read the story, the cameos that the seven have barely count as cameos, this is a 1920s AU, this is mainly focused on the pjo people, well he's in jail so he doesn't speak, yes luke is an antagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackpercy/pseuds/blackpercy
Summary: Perseus Jackson met her on a Saturday night in the Half-Blood Club, a popular speakeasy. He's been hooked since she refused to tell him her name.Annabeth Chase had just gotten back to Harlem, and she'd been spending most of her time trying to get a patent on her inventions. It was both frustrating and hilarious that this stranger wanted to know about her so badly.A Percabeth 1920's AU
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase & Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Annabeth Chase & Thalia Grace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Juniper/Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Piper McLean, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare & Percy Jackson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	1. The Dame in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a guide to the 1920’s lingo:
> 
> A choice bit of calico- a pretty or attractive woman
> 
> I hope y’all know what a speakeasy is but it’s an illegal bar
> 
> Mrs. Grundy - an uptight or straightlaced individual
> 
> Bluenose - a prude or killjoy
> 
> half-seas over - drunk
> 
> Cake-eater - a player
> 
> Bushwa - bs
> 
> I’m making Percy a Latino in this AU

It was April 12, 1923 when Perseus Jackson met her.

She was a choice bit of calico -not that that was all he looked for in a woman- tall, blonde, and grey eyes that said “try your luck, why don’t you?”

When he saw her in the speakeasy, there was a part of Perseus that wanted to play it like Luke would have wanted him to, to saddle up to her smoothly and say “This doesn’t seem like the type of place for a lady.” but something about her told him she wouldn’t appreciate it and his mother raised him better than that.

Instead, he opted to introduce himself in the suavest manner he possibly could.

“How’s the weather?” He said awkwardly, already ready to bash his head into a wall.

The dame raised a fine blonde eyebrow, “The weather? Doesn’t a nice bootlegger such as yourself have anything to attend to?” She took a sip from her glass of brandy, her stormy grey eyes already bidding him adieu.

He chuckled and shook his head, “I don’t drink, Mrs. Grundy.”

She scoffed, “Bushwa.”

“I don’t.” He raised his hands in defense, “I’m here for my buddy Grover. He’s tryna woo some dame, Juniper Redwood.”

She nodded, “I know her.”

Perseus waited for her to say something else, resulting in a beat of silence.

She glanced at him, “What? Should I tell you about the artist she won’t stop talking about? About the fact she’s fascinated by his stories and is hoping she’ll see more of him?”

Although her voice dripped in sarcasm, Perseus knew she wasn’t lying. He could hardly wait to find Grover and tell him everything. Once he knew, it was off to the races, and hopefully out of their shared apartment.

Although the only thing Perseus wanted to do was leave, he stayed to continue small talk with this mysterious woman (Sally did raise him to be a gentleman).

She smiled ruefully at his poorly disguised impatient expression, “It’s fine, go tell your friend.”

Perseus grinned gratefully and got up off the barstool to go before cursing and turning right back around.

“I know I must look like some sorta dewdropper right now, but, uh, may I have your name?”

At that, she smiled again. “You’ll get it.”


	2. The Dame and the Diner

Another month went by before he saw her again. 

He had stepped out for a bite to eat at Hestia’s Hearth, one of the only diners in the area that wasn’t segregated, and had seen her drinking a milkshake, her blond curls bobbing as she nodded along to what one of her friends said. 

Instead of the stylish dress he’d seen her in when they first met, today it was a blouse and trousers. She must have been doing heavy work. She had a cap on top of the princess-like curls that were cut short to her chin. She had charcoal smearing her face, and the sappy part of him still thought she was just as radiant as she had been at the speakeasy.

He vaguely noticed a woman around their age, maybe a little older, with choppy, straight, black hair and electric blue eyes. She seemed angry at something, but it might not have been too serious as his mysterious blonde had a slight smile playing at her lips.

Her other friend was a little bit shorter than the two of them and had vibrant red hair. It looked like she came from wealth, he noted her posture and airs despite her regular clothing. She had paint staining her clothes, and a little bit in her hair.

He gave these women respect in his mind, they were all wearing trousers. 

_Now you’re getting creepy, Perseus._

He shook off his mental analysis of the group of women (and Luke’s voice), hoping that he wouldn’t come off as a stalker. He sat down a couple of barstools away from them, trying to summon the confidence to talk to them.

 _“You’ve always been a bluenose when it came to girls.”_ Luke had told him that time when he had gotten half-seas over one night. Perseus had rolled his eyes and ignored him. Luke had always been some sorta cake-eater, and Perseus, being his mother’s son, had only tolerated it because he’d been like an older brother to him.

Perseus shut his eyes. Best to forget about it. Forget about him. 

“Excuse me, sir? Are you alright?” 

Perseus opened his eyes to concerned green ones, a different shade from his, staring back at him. He recognized the red-headed lady he’d seen.

Perseus gave her what he hoped was a look that cleared her suspicions of his sanity, “Don’t worry, everything’s jake.”

His eyes met the blonde’s and he tried for a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

She took a sip from her milkshake, “Likewise.”

“You gonna tell me your name, yet?” He challenged.

“You gonna see me again?”

He couldn’t help but smile again at that. He tried to hide it by taking a sip from his milkshake.

The one with blue eyes addressed him, “In the unlikely case you wanted to address the other dynamites in the room-” she cleared her throat, “-I’m Thalia.”

He stretched out his hand, “Perseus.”

His mother was a writer, she had been one of the few Latina women to go to college and come out with a degree in classics and literature. She’d given her son the name Perseus, after the Greek hero. It was interesting because, over anyone else in the world, Sally Jackson was Perseus’ hero.

The red-head also stretched out her hand to shake his. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare.”

Perseus almost laughed out loud. Rachel Dare, the daughter of the big businessman Mr. Dare. He wasn’t one to judge someone because of their parents, but he really _really_ wanted to ask.

Apparently it was obvious just how much he wanted to, because Rachel laughed graciously and nodded. 

“Go ahead. Ask.”

Perseus’ face went hot, “Well...how did you end up here?”

In the next hour, Perseus got acquainted with Rachel Elizabeth Dare and Thalia Grace. The blonde remained mostly silent, speaking up occasionally to make a sarcastic remark. 

Rachel was an artist and an activist living in Manhattan. She met Thalia and the blonde (they played along and refused to tell Perseus her name) at a Harlem speakeasy called The Half-Blood Club. 

“I met her there,” Perseus nodded toward the blonde, just a little bit frustrated at her determination to ignore him. 

Thalia was the chief assistant for Artemis Luna. She told him about how she quit her job to work for Ms. Artemis, loving the agency that the job gave her over her own life.

The blonde didn’t say anything when they were trading backstories, a part of Percy growing more and more disappointed.

“Well, what about you?” Rachel leaned forward on her elbows, her hands cradling her cheeks. “You’ve got to have some sort of depressing background.”

He chuckled, “I do, but excuse my hesitancy to talk about it.”

Rachel shrugged, “Doesn’t take a clam off me, Perseus.”

After 2 hours, the women had to leave the diner. Rachel, to gather with some NAACP friends and organize a rally. Thalia, to work, and the blonde, she didn’t say.

Before she walked out, Perseus gathered his confidence and lightly tapped her arm, just enough to stop her.

“May I...see more of you?” 

He didn’t know why, but this enigmatic wonder made his head spin, and the only thing he wanted to do was know more about her.

She pondered the idea for a bit, “Half-Blood Club. Seven o’clock.”

He chuckled, “You trying to get me arrested?”

She smirked, “If you’re not up for it, you can go chase yourself, hotshot.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh, I’m up for it, blondie.”

“Then I’ll see you at seven, hotshot.”


	3. The Deb and the (not) Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We switching to Annabeth's POV y'all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's Percy's POV, the chapter title will say The Dame and..  
> If it's Annabeth's POV, the chapter title will say The Deb and...
> 
> A Deb is 1920s slang for a charming man

Annabeth Chase had spent her life running back and forth.

First, away from San Francisco to live with her mother in Manhattan. She ran away at 10, finding Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace along the way. She eventually realized that she was an immature little girl who was too intelligent for her own good and eventually made peace with her cartographer father and her stepmother.

She was done with running and had resigned herself to the scene in Harlem. She was working on getting a patent for her inventions, trying to build something from nothing in a society that gave her nothing. She’d had a meeting after meeting, and rejection after rejection when she went to the Half-Blood Club for a drink.

Then she met him.

He was tall (had a couple of inches on her), green eyes, and looked like he was from Latin America. She figured he was a bootlegger from the familiarity he walked into the speakeasy with and she was ready to tell him to go chase himself, but, instead, he saddled up to her and asked her about the _weather_. It was dorky in a charming way, and it reminded her of someone she had thought of as a brother.

For a month, she avoided the Half-Blood Club, because she wasn’t ready to damn herself to another broken heart. 

Then she saw him again at the diner.

And, lucky for her, he saw her while she was sweaty and had charcoal smeared face from a day of working on an invention. The romantic part of her wishes he’d seen her in something less….messy. The logical part jumped for joy.

Nevertheless, he persisted. He was determined to figure out her name, and the romantic part hoped he wanted to know more.

Now, it was seven o’clock and Annabeth Chase was waiting for Perseus inside the Half-Blood Club and preparing to be let down yet again. She thought it was funny that they had come back to this, her sipping a glass of water in the exact same barstool he had found her in a month ago.

 _Get ahold of yourself, Annabeth_. She chided herself, _falling over yourself for some deb_.

She was anxious that he wouldn’t show up despite all logic, and at the fifth minute of waiting she had begun to worry he wouldn’t show up at all.

But then Perseus Jackson came in completely frustrated and cursing and running a hand through his curly hair and Annabeth steeled herself and put on the smile that she knew pissed him off so much.

“Was worried that you wouldn’t show up.” She said nonchalantly as he sat down beside her.

“It’s been five minutes.” He stated bluntly. That prompted a blush that Annabeth tried (and failed) to hide, which made him grin.

“Would yah look at that," he said with a smirk. "I made you blush”

She rolled her eyes and ignored him, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to keep a lady waiting?”

“My car broke down.”

"A pity.” She sipped her water.

“So…” Perseus drummed his fingers along the counter. “...what am I here for?” 

She turned to face him with an amused smile, “Do you always question time with girls, Perseus?”

He blushed, “You don’t leave me much choice but to ask the questions, blondie.”

She laughed for the first time that night, “Touché.”

Perseus ran a hand through his curly hair, “Maybe I can tell you about my life.”

Annabeth had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes, readying herself for yet another man about to talk through the whole outing.

But then Perseus smirked, “ _After_ you tell me about yourself.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Is this some ploy to get my name?”

He feigned an innocent face, “Now, why would I ever do that?”

Against her better judgment, and because he was doing the baby seal eyes, she decided to continue the conversation.

“I’m an inventor, I live in Brooklyn and I work as a personal assistant for Athena Conrad.” She stared at her glass of water, finger tapping its base. She hated her job, all she wanted to do was make her inventions but nobody wanted to give her a patent.

Perseus hummed, “Never pegged you as the assistant type.”

“I’m not.”

“Why did she hire a budding inventor out of anyone else, anyway?”

Annabeth almost laughed out loud. “Perseus, she’s my mother.”

Her lips quirked up at the “o” shape his lips made. “Nobody else wants to hire me.” She muttered. “For obvious reasons.”

Perseus made a show of taking a look at the back of his hand then back at her, his lips quirked into a smile. “Honestly, I don’t know how I could ever relate, blondie.”

Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment. Perseus was very obviously not white.

“No, no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make it come out that callous.” She set her water down and covered her face with her hands. Perseus chuckled and set a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t think you did, blondie.” He gave her a charming smile (one she might have peaked through her hands to witness), his oceanic green eyes twinkling with amusement against his tanned skin. She caught herself staring and the memory of the first time Luke found out she had a crush flashed in her mind.

She was nine and, for some reason, she thought some kid named Connor Stoll was attractive. She had followed him to the park and declared her feelings for him. He had run to his older brother and her, to Luke. Luke had had a good laugh, then, when he sobered up, he looked her gravely in the eyes and said:

_Annie, you have a heart. It’s kind and it’s strong, I know it is. That’s why you gotta protect it. You’ve gotta protect it with everything you’ve got. Don’t let anybody in, and don’t let anybody out._

Despite everything that Luke had done, the way he had hurt her and Thalia and everybody at the Half-Blood Club, she lived by that law. She worked for her ambitions, letting people fall in and out of her life. She would never let love take her down, she would never let it take her down the way it took her father down.

That’s why she looked away and shook Perseus’ arm off.

That’s why she was about to ask him if she could go.

But that’s also when the band started playing The Charleston, and when Perseus, whose grin had dropped, smiled softly _at her_ and stretched his hand at her.

“May I have a dance?

Luke’s words flashed through her mind. If she were smart she would refuse. If she were clever, she would say her roommate needs her help around this time with the oven. If she were as intelligent as she thought, she would just say no.

But Annabeth took his hand and nodded, finding the confidence to smile and pull him to the dancing area.

  
  



	4. The Dame and The Deb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter because I cannot go on. If I do go on, the story won't be as good and I don't wanna be rolling out mediocre content (this story is average enough ajjdd). I'm so glad you enjoyed this story and thank you to the (few) people that left a comment or a kudos

They laughed as they walked outside for some air. Perseus had cracked some joke about a couple they’d seen in the club and now she couldn’t stop laughing.

She fanned her flushed face with a smile, fully aware of how she must look right now. She had her right arm hooked in his, also aware of how they must look right now.

As they fell into comfortable silence, Perseus cleared his throat.

“I had a nice time tonight.” He said softly.

“Likewise.”, she teased, mirroring her words from the diner. “My friend should be arriving soon.”

Perseus shrugged, “I can wait with you.”

“Such a gentleman.” She smiled, enjoying the feel of her arm in his. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, leaning against the wall of the speakeasy, before a thought began to nag at Annabeth.

“What’s your story, Oliver Twist?” 

He looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“You said you’d tell me about yourself if I told you about my tragic backstory. What’s up with that?” She kept her tone light to keep the curiosity out of it.

Perseus shrugged, a mischievous grin playing at his lips, “If I tell you, will you give me your name?”

Annabeth shrugged, letting a small smile show. “Maybe.”

Perseus mirrored her gesture before starting to speak. “My name is Perseus Jackson, I am 24 years of age, just in case you were uneasy about that.” Annabeth rolled her eyes and nudged him with a smile, staying quiet to let him continue.

“I live with my buddy Grover in Harlem. My mom lives in Manhattan with my little brother and my stepdad.” He shrugged, an forced air of nonchalance surrounding the shrug.

Annabeth noticed, but stayed with the lighter questions. “What’s your brother’s name? How old is he?”

Perseus started to smile, “His name is Tyson. He’s fourteen and he loves inventing. He’s been playing around with electrical currents nowadays ever since Beck-”

Then he shut up. Perseus’ usually vibrant green eyes took a downcast gaze, he trained his eyes toward the ground. Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder.

“Perseus, I’m sorry I asked. We can...we can talk about something else?”

He shook his head, a reassuring smile gracing his features. He put his hand over hers. “No...no, everything’s jake, blondie. Beckendorf was a good friend of mine. He was one of the only people to like Tyson and he taught him everything he knows..”

A beat passed. “What happened to him?” Annabeth asked softly.

Percy shook his head sadly, “He...he died in the shootout at the Half-Blood Club a year ago. Some trouble boys called The Titans ambushed us there.”

Annabeth almost gasped in shock. She knew the Half-Blood Club got attacked a year ago. She knew that Luke sold them out to The Titans. 

She gathered the courage to find her voice, “I knew him.”

Perseus’s attention snapped to her, “Beckendorf?”

“No...no….I knew Luke. He was like my brother…” When she fell silent, Perseus gaped at her.

“You knew Luke?”

She rolled her eyes and nodded, “I just said I did, hotshot. When I ran away, Thalia, Luke, and I took care of each other.” Her next sentence was accentuated with a sneer. “He left us behind the eight-ball to be some big shot in The Titans. When Chiron told me he sold them out, I came to help out with the rebuilding efforts to get the operation running again.”

Despite the morbid subject, Perseus’ lips quirked upward. “I thought you weren’t into bootlegging?”

She shot him a half-hearted glare, “I thought you weren’t either.”

Perseus shrugged lightheartedly, “A friend of mine once asked me ‘ _do you do this because it’s the right thing or because of your loyalty to your family?_ ’ Bootlegging isn’t my life. It was for my old man, actually, it’s a family business. I never wanted to but I owe a debt because of pops.”

“I’m one foot in, one foot out,” Annabeth sighed and moved her hands so that their intertwined hands were in her lap, “I helped with rebuilding because Chiron helped me as a kid. I’m not...trapped.”

They stood in silence for a couple of minutes, both pondering what the other had said. They sat like that, hand in hand, until Malcolm, Annabeth’s inventing partner, came to pick her up.

She glanced at Perseus as she stood. “I had a swell time, tonight.”

He smiled softly, “Me too.”

She squeezed his hand one more time just because she liked how it felt.

“What’s your name, blondie?” The smile was evident in his tone.

She contemplated telling him for a couple of seconds. She thought of Luke and his warning. But she also thought of Perseus and how different he was in concern to everyone else in Harlem. 

Perseus was someone she could see in her life for years to come. Maybe he was someone she could love.

“Annabeth Chase.”

He was silent for a split second, his eyes fixed on hers, and his smile only growing. “Can I see you again? Tomorrow? At the diner?”

She kissed his cheek, “Three o clock, hotshot.”

At that, she left the blushing mess of a man leaning on the side of the wall with the promise of another meeting.

“You get one date!” She called out behind her with a smirk, “Don’t screw it up!”

This was long after she had left and Perseus had processed this, but he had shouted in victory and, the next day, had spent an hour picking out flowers.

Because Sally Jackson had raised a gentleman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We end here lads. Sorry it took me so long to update, I have online school and stuff like that. I love you all soooo sooo much and thank you for reading! Please leave a comment about your Thots.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this! Please leave a comment because I love them and live for constructive criticism.


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